


Me and My Husband (we're not doing better)

by Pillar144, REFRIDGERATOR



Series: just the two of us (we can make it if we try) [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Gen, Ghost JSchlatt, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Platonic Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28067031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pillar144/pseuds/Pillar144, https://archiveofourown.org/users/REFRIDGERATOR/pseuds/REFRIDGERATOR
Summary: “You want something to flinch about, Quackity?” He whispered threateningly, eyes unfocused as he glared at him. The shorter man shook his head frantically as Schlatt pulled his fist back. “I’ll give you something to fucking flinch about.”Quackity woke up with a pained sob- borderline scream- jolting upright and immediately going into a defensive position from an enemy that no longer existed. He scrambled back until his back met the corner where the walls met, drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his head between them, gasping for breath as tears ran down his face. His entire body shook violently as he dug his hands into his scalp- a desperate attempt at some form of comfort.---OR---Quackity has a nightmare. GhostSchlatt's there to help him, at least.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: just the two of us (we can make it if we try) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2051355
Comments: 4
Kudos: 163





	Me and My Husband (we're not doing better)

**Author's Note:**

> TW// Alcohol and Physical Abuse, Panic Attacks, Yelling and Swearing 
> 
> I recommend reading this series in order! <3

_ Quackity anxiously rapped his knuckles against Schlatt’s office door, mind running ablaze with reasons he was called in. He couldn’t think of anything going on recently, or anything he might’ve done. He had no idea why Schlatt wanted to talk, and that worried him. He heard a “Come in!” yelled from inside, so he hesitantly opened the door to find the president leaning on his palm, sitting at his desk yet gaze turned away from the brunet to stare out the window.  _

_ He stepped all the way in and quietly shut the door, placing his hands behind his back after, waiting for the man to say something. He cleared his throat lightly.  _

_ “Sir? You wanted to see me?” He asked nervously, fidgeting with his hands. The ram-hybrid made a noise of acknowledgment. _

_ “Quackity.” He simply said, sighing. Schlatt stood, pushing his chair away from his desk forcefully, almost making Quackity flinch. His head snapped over to meet the terrified young man’s gaze, scowling. The man tsked, grabbing a bottle from off his desk and stumbling over to the shorter. _

_ This is when Quackity realized he was heavily intoxicated. His heart shattered and his eyes widened. _

_ “Y-yes, sir?” He stammered, finding it difficult not to flee the room right now. _

_ The president stared at him darkly for a few moments before a smug grin lazily spread across his face. A knowing look. “How long, Quackity?” He asked calmly, a cold aura of anger lacing his tone. “Just tell me now.”  _

_ Quackity furrowed his brows, racking his brain frantically for what Schlatt was talking about. He came up blank. No matter how much he knew he was going to regret saying this, he had no other choice. "What are you talking about, sir?" _

_ He was correct. Bad move. _

_ Schlatt's smile disappeared, eyes darkening again. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." He spat.  _

_ "S-sir-" The vice president stuttered, fear increasing with each second that passed. "I don't-" _

_ "YOU THINK I WOULDN'T NOTICE?" The tall man yelled, snarling. "THAT I WOULDN'T FIND OUT?" He threw his arms in the air violently, beginning to pace. He stopped in the middle of the room to glare at Quackity, just in time to notice his flinch. “OH?” He growled, walking back over to him. He grabbed his shirt color, lifting him up a bit. “DID YOU JUST FUCKING FLINCH, QUACKITY?”  _

_ “N-no S-sir-'' The brunet stammered out, breathing much too fast as he struggled in his hold. Schlatt’s grip tightened. _

_ “LIAR!” Schlatt spat in his face, growling. “YOU CAN’T GET ANYTHING RIGHT, CAN YOU?” The man shouted, throwing Quackity to the ground, so hard the brunet was sure he heard something crack. He wheezed as he watched Schlatt pace around the room some more, pushing himself against the door. _

  
  


_ The tyrant had a death grip on the bottle in his hand, and without warning smashed it on his wooden desk, sending glass and leftover beer flying everywhere. Quackity threw his arms up in defense as the small shards cut right through his suit and impaled his arms and legs, causing him to whimper quietly.  _

_ “I KNOW YOU’VE BEEN GOING BEHIND MY BACK!” He screamed, whipping back around to face down the cowering man on the floor, who was shaking harshly. “EVERYONE DOES! EVERYONE!” Quackity flinched back again, tears pouring down his face and soaking into his suit, mingling with the wet blood that was staining it. _

_ Schlatt paced back to stand over him, chest heaving with pure rage. “YOU FUCKING IDIOT! YOU CAN’T FUCKING DO ANYTHING! I HAD HOPE FOR WHAT WE COULD DO!” He hissed, prying Quackity’s arms from shielding himself and lifting the petrified boy up by the collar again, feeling no sympathy for the sobbing mess in front of him.  _

_ “You want something to flinch about, Quackity?” He whispered threateningly, eyes unfocused as he glared at him. The shorter man shook his head frantically as Schlatt pulled his fist back. “I’ll give you something to fucking flinch about.” _

  
Quackity woke up with a pained sob- borderline scream- jolting upright and immediately going into a defensive position from an enemy that no longer existed. He scrambled back until his back met the corner where the walls met, drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his head between them, gasping for breath as tears ran down his face. His entire body shook violently as he dug his hands into his scalp- a desperate attempt at some form of comfort.

Schlatt pushed himself straight up, leaning on his elbows for support as his eyes frantically searched the room for the source of the scream- spotting the panic-ridden Quackity he instantly stood from his bed.

"Quackity..? What's happened are you alright-" His tone was wracked with concern as he slowly approached- well aware of the trauma he had caused the younger and not wanting to spook him when he was already in such a state.

Quackity's head snapped up, accidentally locking eyes with the ghost. Recognition flashed through his eyes, but not the one that was needed in this situation, and he immediately began to sob harder. He kicked his legs against the bedsheets, trying to push himself farther away, the wall preventing him from doing so. His breathing grew even more labored as a sense of hopelessness set in. All he could think of was Schlatt, Schlatt yelling at him, Schlatt drinking, Schlatt going to punch him, Schlatt- He squeezed his eyes shut, arms untangling from his hair to come protectively in front of him as he began to mutter frantic apologies, pleading the president not to hit him, please god anything but that-

Schlatt stopped moving and instead backed up- in his life he was too busy causing pain to learn how to help people calm down. His chest constricted at the fear in his friend’s eyes, but he knew it was justified. Evaluating his options he slowly stepped forward.

"It's okay- I- he isn't here. No one’s going to hurt you," He crouched on the floor next to the bed, holding his hands up in a surrendering motion

"See? I won't even touch you if you don't want me too,"

The terrified man's eyes flew open when he spoke again, quivering as he watched Schlatt's every move. He flinched slightly when the ghost raised his arms but calmed down a bit when he realized it was a surrounding motion.

Wait- what? 

His gaze flickered around the room, starting to register that it wasn't that tyrant's office, no- in fact, it was his room. He looked back over at the man in front of him, brain muddled with the effect of waking up so suddenly after being in a deep sleep, having trouble processing that the person in front of him was indeed Schlatt, but was also dead, and who had become his friend.

Nodding slowly at the other's words, he hesitantly lowered his arms, chest still heaving, staring at Schlatt unsurely. The small man sniffled, face stained with tear tracks as he scanned the ex-president's expression, confusion now evident with the fear he displayed.

Schlatt smiled a small bit before reminding himself that Quackity was still very much so crying and hyperventilating.

"Ok- good. I'm not gonna move, right buddy? But you gotta breathe, okay? Just slow in- and out," He did a small example, breathing in and holding it for a moment before releasing it. Keeping true to his word he didn't move at all, his arms remaining in the same position near his head.

Quackity nodded again, trying to follow Schlatt's instructions, breathing and holding it in before releasing. He sucked in a breath much too fast right after and coughed a little, shutting his eyes. He tried again to copy the ghost, repeating the steps for what felt like an eternity before his gasping was somewhat under control. 

He opened his eyes, checking if the man was still in the same spot after he had accomplished his task. The brunet suddenly went rigid as an actual realization flashed in his eyes. 

"S-...schlatt?" He croaked, voice hoarse. This wasn't him talking to the tyrant of the past anymore.

Schlatt nodded slowly,

"Yeah- hey, it's me," He said cracking a small smile. Recognizing Quackity seemed to be calmer now he lowered his arms- still keeping his moments slow.

"Are you feeling better, bud?" He leans a bit against the bed’s frame while still remaining crouched on the floor. His voice stays soft- just in case something could trigger more panic.

Quackity's eyes still tracked him, paranoid after such a harsh awakening. He gulped and met Schlatt's eyes with his red-rimmed ones.

"I.. I think..." The small man responded hesitantly, breaking eye contact to stare at the bed. His fingers curled, digging into his legs as more reality set in.  _ Fuck. I'm not supposed to have those anymore- especially not in front of Schlatt. _

"I'm sorry..." He said quietly. He knew the ghost hated himself for what he had to everyone in the past. He didn't want to make him more guilty about it.

"What?" Schlatt frowned a bit and pushed himself up so he could sit on the very edge of Quackity's bed- trying to let him have enough space.

"Sorry? What's there to be sorry over- you had a nightmare over something- someone- that traumatized you, it's alright," Hurt prickled in his chest- but he ignored it. He should be guilty for what he did, and he was. But the shorter man should be able to heal without being scared of hurting him- he was dead for god’s sake!

"Man you woke up screaming- don't be guilty about making me feel bad, I'm dead and I already told you," He smiled a small bit, "I won't leave you- especially not over my own mistakes."

"But- but they're not supposed to be about you anymore." Quackity sighed frustratingly, digging his nail even harder in his thighs. "Cause' we're friends now! You don't have to- shouldn't- this just shouldn't be happening anymore." 

His gaze flickered over Schlatt's arms before he made eye contact with him again. God, why wouldn't he just come closer-? 

He wished he was better at telling people what he wanted- needed.

Schlatt smiled at the notion that Quackity was trying to get over this so they could be closer friends-

"It's alright- I get it, it's hard to work through stuff in your heart at the same time as your brain- err, if that makes sense..." He said with small uncertainty. He noticed Quackity’s frustration, but he also noticed the small break in eye contact. Recognizing the same behavior from that night on the path- he scooted closer to him and opened his arms. A small offer- even if he was just guessing he had a feeling he knew what the other needed. Hopefully, it got him to stop forcing his nails into his skin.

Relief washed over him when Schlatt moved closer and opened his arms, grateful that he somehow understood what he was hinting at. He practically flung himself at the ghost, immediately burying his face into his friend's shoulder and wrapping his arms around him, clutching the back of his sweater. His posture slacked as he finally relaxed more- he really liked hugs, he concluded.

The pains in his chest disappeared as Quackity relaxed into his arms, the ghost moved his hand in small circles on his back. He didn't mind holding his friend there until he was alright- the hugs were nice and he really couldn't complain. Schlatt came to the realization that explaining feelings was a lot harder than just hugging them out.

Quackity sniffled again, screwing his eyes shut as he felt more tears form. He didn't need to cry again- especially not on Schlatt. He let out a shaky breath, grip tightening on the ghost as he suppressed a sob he felt conjuring in the back of his throat.

Schlatt felt Quackity shake slightly as he tried to suppress his sobs. 

"It's alright.. You can let it out," He mumbled, continuing to rub comforting circles on his back. He'd sit there all night if Quackity needed him too- it was his mistakes that brought them to this point and he was perfectly fine with sitting there and helping out his friend.

At the reassurance that Schlatt was fine with that, Quackity let the tears flow as he cried into his shoulder. He went limp, mostly being held up by the ghost as he sobbed. He muttered things in between gasps, eyes still shut tightly. He wasn't necessarily scared or sad anymore, he was more feeling a sort of aftershock after experiencing the too-real memory again.

Schlatt was a bit surprised at the way Quackity just melted in his arms, sobbing and gasping. He slightly adjusted the hug to help keep his friend more upright- but his grasp remained just as steady.

Quackity cried until he physically couldn't anymore, taking in shuddering breaths as he calmed down again. He scooted up a bit and re-tightened his grip around Schlatt, but not before wiping his face first. He laid his head back down the ghost's shoulder and sighed, closing his eyes. 

"Th'nks." He mumbled tiredly before quickly passing out, still clinging to the dead man.

He chuckled to himself when he realized the other had fallen asleep. 

"Of course," He mumbled, despite knowing no one would hear. He stayed there with Quackity all night, what kind of ghost friend would he be if he didn't?    
  
Not like he had plans.

**Author's Note:**

> as usual, this whole series is written in a roleplay with me and my friend pillar! check out his story if you like his writing.  
> https://www.wattpad.com/story/213902947  
> quackity: fridge  
> schlatt: pillar
> 
> also, according to ao3’s statistics, only a small percentage of you actually give kudos. so if you like the story, hit that kudos button. it's free, and maybe you could leave a comment while you're at it! thank you and have a good rest of your day ❤️


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